Last Sunday, I spent a morning in the park. The sky was blue, and it was lovely and sunny, but it was a fresh start to the day, and I felt cold. I was wearing several layers and an old beanie hat, but it wasn't enough to keep out the chill. I wasn't alone. Everyone else was dressed in a similar way. In fact, thousands were. This was Greenwich Park, and I was waiting for my start wave for the London Marathon.
For years, I had hoped for this day, as it is notoriously difficult to be offered a ballot entry for The London Marathon. And just when I was getting ready to train for the event last year, I had my accident on the ice rink and needed to defer. It was a huge disappointment at the time, and since then, I've had some issues with my feet, which had me thinking that I might not even be able to run much farther than a few miles. So earlier in the year, my friend suggested we should run a half-marathon. Which was when I decided, if I could complete that without too much discomfort, then running the marathon could still be a possibility.
And that was how I found myself on a sunny April morning in London, stood in a park, surrounded by thousands of runners, all set to complete a distance of 26.2 miles around the streets of London. I dropped off my kit bag at the allocated truck and joined the ridiculously long line for the loo. I was incredibly nervous, as I'd never ran so far before, but I soon began chatting with some other runners who were feeling exactly the same. We were all anxious, but excited about what lay ahead.
As soon as I heard my start wave being announced over the tannoy, I went to the numbered 'pen', and waited patiently for the approaching start time. Once the previous wave of runners had set off, we were herded, a little bit like cattle, towards the starting line. Then, before I knew it, we were off.
To begin with, it didn't feel quite as I'd expected it would. The road ahead looked fairly quiet, but I had forgotten that there are, in fact, three starting lines for the marathon, blue, green and red, all of which merge together at approximately mile 3. That was when it all started to resemble the marathon I'd seen on the T.V. over the years. Thousands of supporters lined the streets, and the one thing I hadn't prepared myself for was the noise! It was quite overwhelming at times. The enthusiasm and support for those on the course was incredible. Thankfully, the miles passed surprisingly quickly, and I settled into a steady rhythm. However, I did stop briefly to take a quick photograph at the iconic approach to Tower Bridge. I was still feeling quite strong at the halfway mark, but as I passed mile 20, I began to struggle, as the effort of running such a long distance began to take its toll. Spurred on by the crowds, somehow I managed to keep going, and it wasn't long before I found myself beside the Palace of Westminster, then heading down Birdcage Walk towards Buckingham Palace. Then came the final straight stretch along the Mall and through the finishing line. It was here that I was greeted with a big, and most welcome hug from one of the amazing volunteers, then presented with my medal and, of course, a foil blanket. Exhilarated, but exhausted, I had completed my first ever marathon.
J. X
